


Blood of My Blood

by emmaliza



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Family Dynamics, Half-Sibling Incest, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, getting caught
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 18:20:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12216336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaliza/pseuds/emmaliza
Summary: “I wish I could believe this is all your fault. All some scheme,” she says. “But I don't.”





	Blood of My Blood

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the asoiaf kink meme prompt: "Jon/Robb + Catelyn. AU where Robb either convinces Jon not to go to the Wall, Jon deserts the Night's Watch, or a different plot where Jon stays to fight with Robb. 
> 
> But give it to me through Catelyn's eyes. How does she feel about Robb wanting Jon there? Is she even more worried about Jon once Robb is crowned King in the North? Does she find some common ground with him? 
> 
> I'll be pretty happy if you manage to include anything that deals with Catelyn either learning that they have a physical relationship or overhearing Jon promise he'll die for/with Robb or refusing Robb's offers of legitimacy, etc."
> 
> This takes place in an AU where Robb doesn't marry Jeyne Westerling, and Jon gets released from his vows to be Robb's heir. Okay let's go.

She's shaking when she secures herself behind her door. Thankfully, she finds a pitcher of red wine on her table, and she hurriedly pours a glass. Catelyn has never been one to cope with difficult news through drink, but now she feels inclined to make an exception. She's likely going to be sick in any case.

However she doesn't manage more than a sip before there's a knock on her door. “Who is it?” she calls hurriedly, trying to maintain her dignity.

A long, uncomfortable pause. “It's... me, my lady.” Of course she can always place that voice, as much as she would wish not to. Even now, he does not know how to introduce himself to her. Jon Stark, Prince of Winterfell, the king's heir.  _The king's bedwarmer_. “May I come in?”

_No!_  she wants to shout at him.  _Haven't you done enough?_  But that would be beneath her. With a heavy sigh she swings open the door.

The boy's clothes have clearly been redone in a hurry, and his cheeks are still flushed. Catelyn remembers the way he looked squirming at a thankfully still-clothed Robb's attentions, and she flushes herself. She takes another sip of wine. “What do you want?” she snaps, and she knows she shouldn't but she can't seem to help herself.  _Are you just here to gloat?_

Jon frowns at her, forlorn as always, and she hates that he can still make her feel guilty. “I thought we should talk,” and Catelyn can imagine nothing she wants to do less, but that doesn't mean the boy is wrong.  _I have to know what's happening. For Robb's sake_. Reluctantly, she takes a step back and lets him come in, shutting the door behind him. “Robb didn't see you. He doesn't know you... know.”  _Of course not,_  thinks Cat.  _He was too busy with your cock to even notice me._  She manages to bite those words back, though. Snow – he will always be a Snow to her – sighs deeply. “I'm very sorry, my lady. You were not meant to see that.”

“You don't say?!” she laughs, and Jon frowns deeper, looking at the glass of wine in her hand.

“Are you drunk?”

She scoffs. “Not yet. Give me time.” She takes another sip. She knows she should not be so spiteful, but what does he expect?

“Look, Lady Catelyn, I know what you must think,” says Jon, and she raises an eyebrow.  _Do you? Well that's convenient. You wouldn't mind informing me, would you? I have no idea what to think._  “You must think I've... seduced him, somehow. That I'm just manipulating him.”

Catelyn frowns. It would be easy to think that. It sounds like the sort of thing a bastard would do. And yet... “But why would you bother?” she asks. “He's already granted you your father's name. He's already made you his heir. What more could you want?”

“So long as he does not father a son,” Snow mutters. Catelyn pauses. That's right – Jon is only Robb's heir in case he dies before the war's end, before he can choose a daughter of Walder Frey's. With Bran gone, and Rickon and Arya, and Sansa... she turns her head so Jon will not see the tears forming.  _I must be strong. For Robb._

So is that what Snow wants? To steal Robb away from any woman, so he can never provide another heir? There is a certain logic to that, and yet Cat can't quite believe it. She remembers when Snow came to Riverrun. He was angry. He couldn't believe Robb would do that to Sansa. 'Abandon' was the word he used, a word Cat never even let herself think. It took months before Robb could persuade him to accept his legitimisation, and all that came with it.  _Perhaps it wasn't he who seduced Robb._

She sighs deeply, and finds herself falling upon her bed, feeling old and exhausted. “I wish I could believe this is all your fault. All some scheme,” she says. “But I don't.”

“...Oh,” says Jon. He sounds deeply surprised.

“Let me guess,” she says, her voice choking her. “You love him?”

She looks up and meets Snow's eye again, for him to drop his gaze heavily to the floor. “Yes. Always.”

Catelyn winces.  _I love him too,_  she wants to say, but not like that. Never like that. She's his mother, as Snow is his brother. “It will ruin him if anyone ever finds out,” she warns the bastard. “It's an abomination, in the eyes of the Old Gods and the New. And after we've said so much about the Lannisters – how do you think Robb's bannermen would feel if they discovered he was no better?” In truth, she can imagine several of Robb's bannermen being willing to turn a blind eye if they discovered he was bedding his sister – but not his brother. Men are like that. All the more so for how Cat saw Robb is perfectly willing to  _bend the knee_  to Jon.

“I know,” Snow says. “I keep telling him we have to be more careful, but Robb is–”

“Reckless. I know.”  _Desperate_ , she thinks. Robb is so alone now, and must be in need of someone to love, willing to bed his own brother to alleviate the ache. Her own heart aches for him. She heard rumours about some girl at the Crag, but Catelyn's never been able to bring herself to ask Robb about it, afraid of the memory of his father's wartime dalliance, and what came with it.  _And now it has all come full circle_. She reaches for her wine again. “You know he must wed, right?”

Jon nods hurriedly. “One of Walder Frey's daughters. I – I hope she will make him happy, I hope he will have no need of me once he's–”

“Liar,” she says. Jon stops, looking wounded, and she sighs. That came out harsher than she meant it. She manages something vaguely resembling a smile. “I don't fault you for it. And I think that, if you were given the choice, you would choose what is best for your brother.” She's not sure why she believes that, other than she feels like she must. “But still. You are in love with him. You want him to love you back.” She pauses. “He does love you back.”

In hindsight, it seems obvious. The way the two boys clung to one another. The way they became themselves around one another. The way Robb longed for Jon months after he was gone, and did not seem to feel any happiness until he was back. Looking back on it, Cat thinks they were always in love. She just badly did not want to know that.

Jon's face curls in on itself, like he's trying to hide tears. “I am so sorry.”

“Me too.” A lifetime ago, she would have gone to Ned if she learned such a thing. She would have made him send Snow to the Wall, and Robb to foster far away, so the two boys would never see each other again. She would have been so sure she was doing what was right for Robb: taking him away from the bastard corrupting him, helping him back on the path to righteousness, making him into the lord he was born to be.

But Ned is long gone, and Robb is now a king, all-powerful over the both of them. There is nothing she can do about this thing with Snow. And even if she could, she's not sure she would. Ned, Sansa, Arya, Bran, Rickon, all gone. It is only the three of them now, three broken people from a broken family, carrying the memories of better days. How can she fault Robb for taking comfort wherever he can? How can she fault Snow for giving him that comfort? It is wrong, and they will both be judged in the eyes of the Father. But Cat is not a father, she is a mother, and she does not want her little boy to suffer any more.

“I wish things were different,” she admits, and takes another sip of wine. “But you need not fear me... my lord. If Robb loves you, I will not interfere.”

Jon nods at her curtly. “Thank you, my lady.” Then he turns to leave, clearly not willing to push his luck. Cat should just let him go and try to forget this whole sorry saga, but instead she finds herself calling out to him:

“Jon?”

He frowns and looks back at her. She still remembers what she said the last time she called out to him like that – it was cruel, and she regrets it terribly, but she was half-mad with grief for Bran.  _Bran..._  her heart aches the worst whenever she thinks of her sweet little boy.  _It should have been you._  There is no should about it. Jon lived and Bran died; the same could have happened the other way around, and neither would be any less deserving. Still, to her at least, Snow must know that if she could trade his life for Bran's, she would in a second. But she can't do that. Bran is gone. She only has Robb now. Only Robb.

“Please don't break his heart,” she whispers.

Jon shakes his head. “Never,” he vows.

A lifetime ago, Catelyn would never have believed that. But now she does, because she must.


End file.
